


Unintended Side Effects

by AvengersNewB



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Steve Rogers, Butt Plugs, Coming Untouched, Doctor/Patient, Embarrassment, Fluff, Happy Ending, Identity Porn, Inappropriate Erections, M/M, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Orgasm, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Top Tony Stark, Young Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersNewB/pseuds/AvengersNewB
Summary: Steve has to go to the ER with a rather embarrassing problem - thankfully Dr. Stark takes excellent care of him.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 58
Kudos: 493





	Unintended Side Effects

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrecmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fever, Breathe Your Love on Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906482) by [blue_jack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack). 



> as a belated birthday gift. 
> 
> This was supposed to be posted on your birthday but it took a litttllleee longer.  
> I love you so much, as an author and a person and I hope you enjoy this <333
> 
> This is medkink, but mostly fluffy and light-hearted. I've added a spoiler summary in the end notes, for anyone who might have concerns, but it's mostly just explicit with embarrassed Steve and gentle caring Dr.Stark :))
> 
> There is also a single mention of blood.
> 
> I've been inspired by blue_jack's Fever series, huge thank you to my beloved blue_jack!
> 
> Thank you so much to musicalla, fundamentalblue, buckyaboveeverything, and serinah for beta and bladeoftheNebula for the title <333

The door to the examination room opens with a dreadful screech, and Steve turns on his heels to watch the unexpectedly young doctor walk in.

“Mr. Grant?” He gestures to a vague space behind Steve, without looking at him as he steps in, tapping on his tablet rather frantically. “Did you want to sit down?”

Steve doesn’t want to sit down. Not really, because it’s a bit uncomfortable. Very, to be precise, but he’s not sure how he should explain the problem, so he hums, shifts on his feet a little, and takes a step back, as if trying to take up less space, so his thighs hit the edge of the examination table.

“I’m Dr. Tony Stark, and I will be your doctor today,” the doctor says, finally looking up from his tablet. Steve hopes that he’s making this up, but it’s too obvious, how the doctor pauses, and his eyes stumble down to Steve’s crotch, where a bulge is sticking out from under the too short medical gown that Steve just changed into.

The doctor’s gaze slides back up and finally reaches Steve’s face. A fresh rush of shame swirls in Steve’s gut, and heats his cheeks, which means he is blushing all over again and he fidgets and dips his knees, hoping to cover the way his cock twitches, but it’s hopeless and too late. The wet patch on the front of the gown is getting even bigger; not that Steve’s going to look at the damn thing. 

“So, Mr. Grant—”

“Steve, please.” 

“ _Steve._ ” Dr. Stark narrows his eyes, glances back at his tablet, and pauses for a second. Steve braces himself for the terrifying first question every doctor asks in every exam room, ‘what seems to be the problem today’, but it doesn’t come; thank goodness. “I can see that you’ve been experiencing prolonged erection.” 

Life can sometimes be nice for a change, somewhat nice at least, because even if there is a problem regarding an erection, Steve's not the person who had to say it out loud. He gives a quick nod in response though, to avoid any confusion that might lead to more questions.

Dr. Stark nods back, puts his tablet on the stand near the door, and smiles. “I’ll need to check your penis now, to examine its physical appearance.” He then takes a step forward and kneels in front of Steve, obviously to do as he said, _examine Steve’s penis_.

As a doctor, Steve reminds himself, but it is no use, as his body only cares about the fact that someone’s kneeling before him to look at his dick, not so much about the reason why. A jolt of arousal shoots up Steve’s spine, and he leaks some more into the gown, right where Dr. Stark’s face is right now.

“Steve?” Dr. Stark looks up at him, with torturously soft eyes, and Steve takes a deep breath to get a hold of his nerves before he reaches down and lifts the hem of the gown past his thighs and balls until it slides off his stupid, _prolongedly_ erect cock.

He closes his eyes and clutches the gown in his hands as he tries to calm down, breathe in, or breathe out, apparently unable to perform the supposedly easy tasks, because there are gloved fingers on his cock, and warm breath flowing around it, a reminder of how close Dr. Stark actually is. 

Too much.

It’s just too much, and it makes all his thoughts come to a halt, so he trembles and bites back a moan, even more of his blood leaving his brain to rush south, and he has to lean back against the examination table to keep from falling, his hands finally ripping the paper-thin gown on both sides. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters under his breath and forces himself to open his eyes, right in time, just as Dr. Stark tilts his head to look at him.

“It’s okay, Steve, completely normal to be a little sensitive in your situation,” he reassures gently, and Steve breathes out and tries to smile back.

Dr. Stark wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock and squeezes once. “Does this hurt?”

Steve’s breath hitches, and he shivers, fully aware that his cock is leaking into Dr. Stark’s hand. He tries to reply, he really does, but his brain is not capable of forming words, proper ones at least, because there are some highly inappropriate things at the back of his mind, ready to be voiced. He just shakes his head instead, and hisses with strained breath when Dr. Stark presses on the base of his cock.

“Uncomfortable?”

Steve’s head spins as Dr. Stark traces a line over each of Steve’s balls. This is not uncomfortable, not really, but Dr. Stark’s fingers cupping and rolling his balls is not helping the situation in his ass, and he can’t help but let out a muffled cry, as he tries to hold back the hot waves of extreme arousal and horrible embarrassment.

Dr. Stark stands up, and grabs a tissue from the box on the wall to wipe Steve’s pre-come off his gloves but gives up and takes them off, to toss them in the bin. 

“How long has this been going on?” Dr. Stark is washing his hands, and it’s a small blessing that he is facing away from Steve, so he can pretend to be invisible for a second.

Invisibility seems to be the most awesome superpower a person could have. It makes a strange kind of sense, Steve thinks, because invisible people do not end up in the Emergency Department on the 4th of July for being so stupidly strong, and they certainly don’t produce so much pre-come that would be enough to make a small puddle. And even if they did, they wouldn’t turn cherry red during a medical examination, just like Steve must be now, with the way his skin is burning all over. 

They’re blessed. They're simply invisible.

Steve looks down on his lap, absentmindedly. “Um… must be a few hours.” He then looks back up wondering if he should hold onto the front of the gown that has a nice long tear off-center, as awkward as it might look, or let go and have his balls and half of his dick on display, now that Dr. Stark is looking at him again, and he is not invisible anymore. 

“Could you maybe be more specific, Ca—Steve?” 

Steve holds on to the skirt of the gown. “Since this morning,” he mumbles and lets go of the skirt, unsure what he should do with his hands now.

“About 10 hours then.” Dr. Stark narrows his eyes. “Did you, by any chance, use sexual enhancing drugs?”

“Drugs?” Steve starts and leans forward quickly, and damn, just fuck this shit, because the supposedly durable best-quality disaster moves in his ass, which makes Steve dig his fingers into the examination table and shiver a little.

“Viagra, for instance, you know, the little blue pill?”

“God, no, it’s nothing like that,” Steve almost yells, as if taking the modern age impotence treatment is something way more horrible compared to his current situation.

Dr. Stark taps a finger on his bottom lip. “Has this happened to you before?”

“No, not really, never this long.”

“Alright then,” Dr. Stark says, cocking his head and running his fingers through his hair. 

“I will need to draw some cavernosal blood from your penis to see if the blood in the penis is oxygen deprived or not. We’ll use a standard butterfly needle—” Steve is not sure if he’s heard correctly for a second because he’s been busy admiring the way Dr. Stark’s mussed hair looks even better than neatly combed back. “—so if you lie down on the table I’ll get the supplies—” Wait, did he say ‘needle’? “—if the blood’s visually bright red, we will start with— ” No. no, no, no. No needles in Steve’s dick, thank you very much, that’s just… no.

No.

“Dr. Stark, please. Wait, just, wait.” Steve tries, feeling the sweat that’s trickling down his temple all of a sudden. “This is not the main problem. There is… something else.”

Dr. Stark looks into Steve’s eyes. “Okay, that’s good, Steve. There is… something else that you need to tell me?” 

Steve wants to look away, but he doesn’t seem to be able to. Dr. Stark’s eyes are a unique color, a golden brown, like chocolate, or dark honey maybe, and Steve doesn’t expect it, the way they’re holding him in place, warming him up and calming him down. 

“There is something…” Steve swallows and breathes in. “Something is… stuck. Inside.” 

The air in the room stills and becomes heavy for a second. Steve waits, holding his breath, his nails digging into his palms, waiting for a chuckle or a grin, a few condescending words at least, but none of those happens. 

Dr. Stark’s eyes go wide, for a fraction of a second, before the corners of his eyes crinkle with concern. “Okay. That's okay, we’ll figure it out.” And he smiles again, his eyes still on Steve, and Steve’s so damn grateful, as he feels so numb and small that he might float and get lost in the sky without them.

“I have to examine your abdomen now. Is that okay?” Dr. Stark says gently and waits until Steve makes some sort of movement that could be taken as an affirmative, before stepping forward.

He starts with massaging the lowest part of Steve’s abs, too close to parts down below, and Steve’s dick twitches and pulses, filling his head with images that should not be there at all. 

“Does this hurt?” 

No, it is the opposite of hurt, Steve thinks as he shakes his head and watches Dr. Stark focus back on pressing his fingers into Steve’s stomach. It’s pleasant, despite all odds, to have this nice smelling person so close, touching Steve’s body, caring and gentle, even if the context is all wrong. Steve can’t help but breathe it in, because no one should smell this good, and that wavy dark hair would probably feel soft if Steve ran his hands through it. 

“So what exactly is stuck?” Dr. Stark asks, without looking up as if he’s casually bringing up the most trivial thing to talk about, and Steve wonders if he can try and follow his lead and be as casual about it.

The thing is, though, that this situation is Steve’s worst nightmare. It’s a sea of concentrated humiliation that he’s been drowning in since this morning, when he managed to convince Sam to go to SHIELD’s BBQ without him and barely escaped Nat’s observant looks when he walked past her in the communal area, up until now that he's trying to find the words to explain what happened, the mental capacity to say them out loud and the strength to keep it together while saying the words so he doesn’t pass out or start crying in the process. 

He can do this though. Not that he has any other choice, between here and SHIELD medical, but he’s got this.

Sorta.

“A…” Steve begins, as he shakes his head again when Dr. Stark presses a circle around his navel and looks at Steve. “A plug,” he manages this time, keeping his eyes on Dr. Stark, having learned from recent experience that they are the only kind concept in this disastrous day. He doesn’t expect giggles and condescending looks anymore, and it’s amazing how weightless the truth makes him feel. It’s nice, Steve realizes with astonishment, as he tries and fails to stop staring at Dr. Stark. He desperately needed to tell someone about this, even though he had no idea himself.

“Okay. It’s okay Steve, thank you for telling me.” He places a reassuring hand on Steve’s shoulder, and it’s stupid and he’s probably thinking with his ridiculously hard dick, but all Steve wants to do right now is lay his head against Dr. Stark’s bare forearm. 

“So it’s actually a butt plug?” Dr. Stark asks after tapping on Steve’s shoulder a couple of times “You know, the ones that have wide bases?” he adds, and he sounds ever so skeptical, which is just enough to bring back the gut-stirring shame in full force and make Steve’s palms sweaty again. 

“Well…” he breathes in, “there was an accident.” He breathes out, trying to look down, still unable to break eye contact. “The base…” Steve tries to breathe in again, but there is no more air left in the room. “Broke. Came… off. I was holding it for a second, and then I only had the base, and the rest was… gone.”

Dr. Stark’s eyes go unbelievably wide, and he opens his mouth to say something, probably, or to try and breathe as Steve just sucked in all the air in the room, or maybe because the plug, the doom of Steve’s being, decides to shift a bit again, sending fireworks all the way up to Steve’s neck, making him dizzy, forcing a low moan out of his lips. “Was it a particularly old plug? Like from the 40s? Or left in corrosive solvents for too long? Because—”

“It was… brand new. Top quality, and expensive,” Steve says, gritting his teeth. “I might look like the most stupid person in the world right now, Dr. Stark, but I certainly am not _that_ stupid.”

Dr. Stark’s eyes go soft, and his face eases into a soothing smile. “Of course not, Steve, of course not. It’s just a very rare accident, and I have to double-check because I need to know what material I’m dealing with before the physical examination, whether there is a chance of breakage when we’re trying to extract it, you know things like that.”

He steps forward again and his hand on Steve’s shoulder is like fire and ice, rain and sunshine, calming and exciting all at the same time. 

“It’s silicone. I did research. It wasn’t supposed to be breakable.” Steve says, finally looking down, and his voice is small, so small he almost hates himself for it.

“I guess you’re just _that_ strong then,” Dr. Stark says, his voice a little too hoarse maybe, something sounding off that Steve can’t quite put a finger on.

He coughs, and rubs Steve’s bicep a couple of times, a friendly gesture any other time, but it’s not any other time, and Steve can’t decide if it’s humiliating to death, or a hell of a turn on. The result is the same though; prickling across his skin, burning low in his belly, his head spinning in frustration.

“It’s okay. We’ve got this. If you lie down on the table for me, I’ll take care of everything.” Dr. Stark bends forward to tap on the table and his scrubs brush against Steve’s gown, close, so close that if Steve moves an inch forward, he can rub his nipples against Dr. Stark’s arm. He doesn’t move an inch forward though; he just holds still, trembling inside, and he inhales, wondering how inappropriate it will be to ask if he can smell Dr. Stark’s hair right now.

Lying down though, he can definitely do. 

And it’s not that hard anyway. He just needs to slide onto the bed, ignoring the way the gown stops covering him altogether as soon as he lies down, and just give up the last bit of his dignity. Simple. Easy.

Then Dr. Stark pulls the stirrups out. Steve’s brain freezes; his body starts to boil.

“Move down, a bit more, excellent. Now put your feet up,” Dr. Stark instructs, and his fingers burn on the skin of Steve’s shins as he guides them onto the stirrups. “Ah, there you go, great job.” And the praise washes him all over even if he knows, at least on some deep inaccessible level, that it’s not meant the way his body is trying to take it. 

There is a pop and a squirt, and it’s fine, it’s not like it’s Steve’s first exam like this. 

“Okay, take a deep breath for me.” 

This will be the same, Steve repeats to himself, ignoring the way his cock is straining and leaking even more, unsure how that’s even possible at this stage, and he does as Dr. Stark says. He takes a very deep breath, because he’s got this, despite the unfortunate incident, being on display and spreading wide, despite the blinding embarrassment. He has got this. 

He’s totally got this.

For about two seconds exactly until Dr. Stark’s gloved slick finger touches the rim of his hole and pushes in very gently. That’s the moment he loses it completely. 

It’s too much, like touching an exposed wire with your ass, and it’s not even funny because assholes are so fucking sensitive. He squirms, whines, and shoves himself back, lifting his feet off the stirrups and crossing his legs. 

Everything freezes for a moment, except for his cock, which is stuck in the magical land of permanent erection, and all of his body becomes numb. 

He’s not got this. 

He totally has not got this.

Steve opens his legs slowly and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m so fucking sorry, I have no idea what got into me, it’s just… too sensitive, I… sorry, I’m so so so sorry.” 

He waits to be yelled at then, as if he’s been a naughty boy, having done something horrible, and no, he is not gonna cry over this, no matter what, but for the first time in forever, he feels like covering his face and crying until the damn thing is over. 

No one yells. Dr. Stark says things, the words sliding over Steve’s skin at first before starting to make sense at some point, soft and gentle and reassuring. “It’s okay, it's perfectly fine. Steve, don’t worry about it. It’s just a reaction, no big deal. I’ll just need you to put your feet back on the stirrups and hold still for me. Do you think you can do that?”

Steve is not going to look at Dr. Stark, not right now at least, but he sure as hell can put his feet back up and try to hold still, even if Dr. Stark’s finger turns into a blade of fire in his ass. 

“You know, I never got used to people calling me Dr. Stark,” he says, as he pushes his finger in, less gently this time, but in one quick motion. “The sphincter is intact.” His finger moves around and pushes further in as Steve presses his feet down on the stirrups, his fingers digging into the sheet under him on the exam table. “Dr. Stark is my dad, and he used to be an attending in this hospital when I was an intern.” There is more pressure and more push. “No tears or tenderness in the walls.” The finger goes further up, just barely brushing up against his prostate, and it takes every ounce of Steve’s willpower to not move his feet and kick Dr. Stark in the face. “He runs the company now, and I envy him so much, because he gets to deal with prosthetics and medical technology. Ah, there we go, I found it,” he says happily, and Steve wonders if his head would explode with the way the plug shifts as Dr. Stark’s finger touches the edge of the damn thing. “I always wanted to become an engineer, but he wouldn't even listen to me talk about it. Eh, water under the bridge.” He pulls his finger out of Steve’s ass in another swift motion, and it’s just impossible, how his whole body burns, in a jumble of mismatched sensations. 

“Excellent work, Steve, thank you so much for holding still for me. Luckily, the plug is lying very low and has an accessible edge, so I should be able to remove it easily.”

Great. Good. The plug stuck in Steve’s ass is sitting low, and the whole situation is _lucky,_ the way Steve’s still unable to open his eyes and look at Dr. Stark, the way his ass is throbbing and his dick is about to break the Guinness record for being hard. Lucky. Extremely lucky.

“Usually we’d give the patient a mild sedative that allows the sphincter to relax. Then we use a speculum to view the object so forceps can be used to remove it,” Dr. Stark says, in a sing-song voice, as if he has ‘extracted’ a million plugs from a million unfortunate asses sticking up in the air just like Steve’s. “On rare occasions though, when there are any concerns about the patient's reaction to the drugs, we try the manual opening technique.” 

Steve opens his eyes finally and looks at Dr. Stark, sitting on a stool right between Steve’s spread legs. He is definitely a rare occasion, in every aspect that he can think of and Dr. Stark has picked up on that, but Steve’s brain’s too worked up to figure out the reason. 

“I’d prefer to open you up myself, just to be safe. You think you can stay like this a bit longer?”

Steve nods, before fathoming Dr. Stark’s words fully, and it’s in the middle of his struggle to say actual words that the idea sinks in and the image crystalizes, that he has to _hold still_ while Dr. Stark is _opening him up, manually_. 

Simple; just like that. 

No matter how much he wants to scream with the slow but steady stretch of his rim as Dr. Stark adds a second finger, the unbearable embarrassment of the precome covering his balls and making a pool on the table, Dr. Stark's fingers pushing in and pulling out, the shreds of pleasure stabbing into his core with every stroke, and the red-hot guilt that comes after every shiver, just for a second, before the next blaze of pleasure takes him all over. He doesn't have to do anything. He can just lie back, breathe, glance at the lines on Dr. Stark’s face which make it so easy to trust him, and hold still. 

Very, very simple.

“We are almost there, Steve,” he says and looks up at Steve’s face with a gentle nod. “You are doing really well, holding nice and still. I’ll now add another finger.” 

Well, holy fucking mother of shit. 

This is new. _This,_ Steve has never had before, even when he was playing with the plug before all of this happened. He’s never been this open, this stretched, and it’s mind-blowing, the roaring of blood in his ears as his hole squeezes Dr. Stark’s fingers, his breath trapped in his chest, and the way he arches his back, the words that slip out of their own accord, as he covers his mouth with one hand, meaningless and muffled and so very loud.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Steve. It’s perfectly normal to be aroused in this situation, and man, I promise you, compared to what I usually hear in this room, between pained cries and frustrated insults, this-” he looks up and gestures to Steve “-is much preferred and a nice change of pace. It’s okay. You’re okay.” And he winks, or that’s what Steve’s mind makes up, he can’t be sure, but the lightning that runs through Steve’s spine is real, for sure, because it burns all the way from the back of his neck down to the tip of his toes.

Time somehow loses its meaning. It might be minutes, or hours, that Steve is lying on the table, his brain being stretched and relaxed along with his hole, and it’s not hurting any more for some reason, no guilt, no pressure, no burn. The brown eyes looking up at him from time to time might be the reason; the smiles, the professional reassurance that Steve’s brain decidedly takes as praise. The acceptance maybe, that it’s out of his hands now, the unexpected trust, the safe feeling that’s wrapped around his flushed body like cold water in this hot mess of a summer afternoon.

“That’s it, I think you’re ready.”

Ready is a big word, Steve thinks hazily. It means composed and prepared, and in the right state of mind, and Steve is not any of those, but if Dr. Stark thinks he’s ready, then he must be, so he nods and does something with his face that hopefully looks like some sort of smile. 

“It should be very little discomfort now, and I want you to tell me if it starts to hurt even a little bit. You think you can do that for me, Steve?” Dr. Stark smiles back, and God, why does he look more beautiful with every smile?

He moves his fingers in and out a few more times, as he watches Steve, waiting for his confirmation before he pulls them out quickly but gently. It’s just surreal that Steve misses his fingers almost instantly, as if they’re a part of Steve now, how he can _feel_ his hole gaping, the thing Steve’s wanted for so long, definitely not like this, but still, and it’s just fantastic and shattering at the same time, too much, that Steve doesn’t know if he wants to cry or yell or something else, he has no idea what.

Steve can hear the sound of latex gloves being peeled off Dr. Stark’s hands and thrown in the bin, and his brain fixates on the price of each pair for a second, that he will have to pay out of pocket because there is no chance in hell that he will use his employer-provided insurance for this hospital visit. 

“I’m gonna strap your feet to the stirrups now. Just as a reminder that you will need to keep your legs apart for me, because we know you’re too strong for them. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I’d prefer if I didn’t choke to death by these.” He laughs and taps on Steve’s left thigh playfully, exactly once, before fastening one of the straps. It’s probably the ring of his laughter, the click of the buckle of the other strap, and the skin-to-skin contact that makes a splash of liquid fire run from Steve’s thigh to his cock and spill like a volcano all over his body, and God, oh God, his hole clenches pathetically around nothing and opens up again. 

“Now I’m going to insert the retractor. Remember, you have to let me know if it hurts at all, right?” 

Steve certainly remembers. Along with every single slide of Dr. Stark’s fingers, in and out, and how stunning it felt although it shouldn’t have, right before the squelch of his fingers pulling out; he remembers that nothing should hurt, that Dr. Stark doesn’t want him to be in pain at all, or something along those lines, so he nods and maybe makes some noises too, but he can’t be quite sure about anything at this stage.

Dr. Stark understands though. “Perfect. I’m putting the speculum in now. Just relax. It will be okay, done before you know it.” 

As a cold wet metallic object touches his rim and gets worked inside, Steve wonders if he wants this to be over soon. It’s torturous and overwhelming and past the most humiliated Steve had ever been half an hour ago, but it’s electricity at the same time and blinding pleasure. No one has to know what a little horny slut Steve is deep inside, that he is loving this, even though he is absolutely hating it. No one except Dr. Stark, which makes everything just that much better. He will be the only one to know that Steve moans as the blades of the instrument open him up, wide and deep, not even covering his mouth, that his cock jerks and spills because a handsome stranger is working on his ass, with focused eyes and professional diligence. It will be their dirty little secret, and even that feels amazing, sharing something with Dr. Stark, who happens to be kind and gentle and extremely, breathtakingly beautiful. 

“I have a perfect view of the plug now. I’m going to try and grab it with the forceps. Stay very still for me, Steve.”

Steve closes his eyes and wonders if he’s relaxing or tensing up as he presses his feet onto the stirrups and balls his fists, hoping to not have ripped any holes into the plastic of the examination table. There is a clicking sound, a deep breath, followed by a hum, and the plug starts to move. It actually starts to move, it's coming out, as Dr. Stark announces cheerfully, and it’s too much, the friction, the fullness, the sparks that are flickering in Steve’s brain, Dr. Stark’s tight grip on Steve’s thigh holding him in place. The pressure that’s been building since the morning, after Dr. Stark stuck a finger inside, all the humiliation and arousal and the fucking overstimulation, finally break through as Dr. Stark pulls the plug out, and the flood bursts through the dam and takes the very last of Steve’s self-restraint along with it.

That’s it. 

Steve is shaking from head to toe, inside and out, every inch of every nerve exposed and trembling. He can’t hold on to any last bit of composure anymore, any dignity, any decency, provided he had some left, as he comes, falls apart, cries, and keeps trembling and coming and crying, as nothing makes sense, and everything is unreal, except for the tension that is leaving Steve’s body in catastrophic sways of pleasure, so forceful that they might, hopefully, make Steve disappear altogether.

***

Steve’s cold when he wakes up.

Even with the heavy blanket covering him that wasn’t there before, he doesn’t feel like he’s sitting on fire anymore. He’s lying on his side, with his feet curled into his stomach and not up on stirrups. He is not aching, he is not hard, and except for the small holes that shame has probably burnt into his skin, he is not uncomfortable, not even the smallest bit.

Dr. Stark is leaning against the wall right before Steve’s eyes, tapping on his tablet, and, well, he’s still absolutely beautiful. He has a nice smile, adorable curious eyes, a lively vibe, a buzzing upbeat feeling about him, and perfect lips that Steve still wants to kiss so much. He is probably writing Mr. Steven Grant’s report, and that’s a horrible fake name, but Steve had come up with it when a quarter of his brain was operational at best, and he could always do worse, like writing his actual full name on the admission papers.

Dr. Stark looks at Steve, finally, and there, his smile is even more beautiful than before. “Hey, sleeping beauty. How are we feeling?”

“Mortified,” Steve says without thinking. “I’m thinking of ways I can disappear from the face of the earth. Or delete my brain, and yours, or something.” 

“No need to do that.” Dr. Stark puts the tablet away and comes to Steve’s side. “It’s all done and dusted. You can’t even imagine some of the things I’ve had to deal with since I started working in this ED. This was nothing, I promise you, I won’t even remember it tomorrow.”

Steve stretches his feet tentatively and sits up. He covers his lap with the blanket and pulls it further up to his chest. He waits for the plug to move and stab somewhere deep inside, but he can’t feel anything down there, except for the shadow of Dr. Stark’s fingers that Steve doesn’t want to think about right now.

“I checked for possible internal tears or bleeding before removing the speculum, and it’s all clear. I tried to clean you up a bit but you were asleep, and I didn't want to disturb you, so you’ll need to do a bit of cleaning up before getting dressed. Sorry about that.”

Clean up. Right. 

The guy Steve’s still dreaming about kissing and doing other things with, had to clean the filthy mess between his legs before covering him with a blanket, while he was out because he had an orgasm during a medical procedure. 

Right. Just perfect.

“Oh God, I am so sorry, I … made a mess, I’m just …” _a fucking mess with no self-control_ , but he can’t bring himself to say those words, and besides, he can’t really look at the stains on Dr. Stark's scrubs, right over his chest, which Steve can swear were not there when he first came into the room, so he just covers his face with both of his hands.

“Hey, hey, none of that.” Dr. Stark’s fingers wrap around Steve’s hands, take them off his face, and hold them both in his. “It’s perfectly normal to have an orgasm after so much stimulation. And honestly, you did me a favor.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I’d have to deal with that erection if it had not gone down. You basically did a part of my job for me. So thank you for that.”

This can’t be right. Sounds more like a joke, to be honest, but with his spinning head and the hollow in his chest, Steve needs to hold on to the one thing he has done well today, even if it’s completely made up, and he’s not imagining this, definitely not, the way Dr. Stark presses gently on his fingers.

“I’m sorry your day was ruined like this.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with stupid people like me instead of doing cool technology things.”

Dr. Stark throws his head back and laughs out loud. “Oh God, no, I love helping people.” And he laughs some more, and Steve watches him, wondering how inappropriate it will be if he wraps an arm around this perfectly-shaped waist to pull Dr. Stark onto his lap. “It’s just that I feel like building things is my true calling. I don’t fit this mold that my dad shoved me into, and it’s just so frustrating, being stuck doing what others expect from you. You know what I mean?”

And Steve knows what it means to be stuck in a shell others foist upon you. He absolutely does.

“I would normally prescribe pain medication but I’m thinking you won’t really need those. I have to get to another patient now, so one of the nurses will come to check on you shortly. Did you want any help with your clothes?” 

“Thank you, I’ve got it,” Steve mutters, staring at their hands intertwined, because ‘yes please help me get dressed’, or ‘I don’t want to get dressed’, seem like unacceptable answers. 

Dr. Stark lets go of Steve’s fingers, slowly. “Be safe,” he whispers, before he turns away, grabs the tablet, and leaves Steve sitting on the examination table, half-naked and full of longing.

***

Steve gets back to the tower, just in time to get a giant piece of his birthday cake with lots of leftover BBQ food from SHIELD’s 4th of July party, although nothing tastes as good as the tiny hospital sandwich and the juice box left on top of his clothes in the exam room. He falls asleep thinking about big brown eyes, a perfect smile, and the most magical fingers in the world, and wakes up to a package delivered while he was sleeping that Nat must have left on his bedside table. 

There is a trading card in the box, an unpackaged blue … butt plug, and a note, that Steve opens with shaky hands, and has to read a few times before he begins to comprehend the words.

_Dear Captain America,_

_I understand that you were not planning to disclose your identity yesterday, and I’m sorry, but I can recognize you among thousands of people at a baseball game, a soccer stadium, or Disneyland._

_I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than you already were. I promise that I did not let my admiration for you interfere with the care I provided._

_What I’m doing now is unprofessional and borderline prosecutable, and if I’m overstepping, feel free to come and kick my ass (or have me fired, or sue me, I don’t know, whatever you deem fit, Captain). It's just that I could not stop thinking about how awful it must be to want to do something nice for yourself for your birthday and have it turn out so wrong. I just wanted you to have this while it's still your birthday weekend, and I rushed the production a bit so it's not my best work. I made it out of EPDM, which is tested to be way more durable than silicone, so you should be able to give the whole thing another go with more peace of mind. (Sorry about the shield design on the base. I couldn’t help it.)_

_I was also wondering if you could sign my Captain America trading card? It’s original 1943 in mint condition, so please be careful with it with those insanely strong hands._

_-TS_

_P.S. Next time you need secret medical attention, please let your doctor know that you’re not an ordinary patient. Or give me a call and I’ll see you ASAP._

_P.P.S. Just call me if you need anything._

_P.P.P.S. ANYTHING._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving it a try and I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Please tell me what you think, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> I'm [avengersNewB](https://avengersnewb.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, come talk to me!
> 
> Come join us on [Put on the Suit (18+)](https://discord.gg/z5WSqbS) MCU Stony Discord Server!
> 
> \--- Spoiler Summary ---
> 
> Steve has a butt plug stuck in his ass, and he is very embarrassed, but Tony is gentle and caring, he doesn't humiliate Steve and he takes excellent care of him. No blood or injuries, no intense procedures, just working Steve's ass open very nicely and taking the plug out. That's it :)
> 
> \---------------------


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